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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27869890">How the Cookie Crumbles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatwriterlady/pseuds/thatwriterlady'>thatwriterlady</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>25 Days of the Holiday Season [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aww, Castiel Has a Crush on Dean Winchester, Castiel is a Dad, Christmas Cookies, Christmas Fluff, Cute Kids, Dean Winchester Has a Crush on Castiel, Fluff, Happy, M/M, New Neighbors, Pie, dean winchester is a dad, so cute</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:41:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,351</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27869890</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatwriterlady/pseuds/thatwriterlady</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After a school fundraiser was canceled Cas is left with more cookies than he knows what to do with. His son makes a suggestion that makes sense: Share them with the people in the neighborhood. He sets out with the kids the next day to do just that.</p><p>After being abandoned by his two oldest he's left with his seven year old to finish handing out the cookies. The last house at the end of the block was empty the last time he'd checked but it's not now. </p><p>His new neighbor happens to be the father of his daughter's new best friend, and he had baked for the fundraiser too. With so much in common the men connect almost instantly but best of all? His new neighbor is gorgeous, and he's not straight. This is set to be an interesting holiday season!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>25 Days of the Holiday Season [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037259</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>155</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>How the Cookie Crumbles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My cat insists on sitting between me and the keyboard and he almost deleted the entire story. If it seems like any parts are missing, he laid down on the keyboard. I tried to backspace to make sure it was all there. I apologize if it got messed up, I'll have to try to fix it later. I *think* it's all back, but he went and sat on my mouse after that so I'm not 100% certain. I do hope you enjoy this story.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Dec 3rd:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>How the Cookie Crumbles~</em> </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Cas stared at the six huge Tupperware containers he’d stuffed full of homemade Christmas cookies with a mixture of despair and anger. He’d slaved over the oven for the past three days to make forty dozen cookies. <em> Forty dozen! </em> And now the PTA winter fundraiser had been cancelled due to the horrible snow they’d had for the last week. It was so heavy it had collapsed the gym roof and the gym, and all of the fundraiser tables and decorations, were under some three feet of snow. As a result the PTA had made an executive decision to cancel the biggest money raising event of the year since there was nowhere safe inside the freezing school to host it. Now he had cookies coming out his ears and no idea what to do with them.</p><p> </p><p>“Daddy, can I have a cookie?” His daughter Delilah had climbed up onto one of the bar stools at the island and was eyeing the nearest container hungrily. That one had M&amp;M cookies.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.” He opened it and handed her a cookie. She sat down properly and started eating it.</p><p> </p><p>“You should give them away,” His son Jack said from his spot on the couch where he was playing a PS4 car racing game.</p><p> </p><p>“To who? Who could I possibly give <em> this </em> many cookies too?” </p><p> </p><p>“Well,” Jack paused his game. “What about the neighborhood? What if we got some of those little Christmas plastic containers with the santas and snowmen on them, filled them with like, a couple dozen cookies and hand them out to neighbors? Just skip ones that say no thank you, or that say they have diabetes. They can’t have cookies, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“They can have cookies, they just can’t have ones with sugar, I’m pretty sure. I made about ten dozen with Splenda and I marked those,” Cas looked at the containers again. He’d had to use his largest ones he owned so the cookies weren’t smooshed. He was still mad about the fundraiser being cancelled but there was nothing he could do about it. His son had a good point, sharing with the neighborhood was a good and generous thing to do, especially since he didn’t know everyone. There had been a few families moving in and out over the last few years. He did some quick math in his head. If he gave two dozen to each house then he’d have to visit twenty different ones. That meant walking at least two blocks in the cold and snow and visiting complete strangers. That sounded very unappealing. He’d just give to the people on his block and share the rest with coworkers and family. There would probably still be several dozen for his kids to try and devour.</p><p> </p><p>“You gonna give the cookies away?” Delilah asked around a mouthful of cookie. He grabbed a wet wipe from the pack he kept in the drawer just for her and wiped the corners of her mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t talk with food in your mouth,” He chastised softly. “But yes. If we don’t share them they’ll go bad long before we could finish them, plus we’d all get fat.”</p><p> </p><p>“Claire would have a fat butt!” She giggled.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Jack laughed as he started his game up again.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I come with you to give the cookies?” Delilah asked. Her father smiled and nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course, honey. How about we go and invest in those containers now, ok? I know those alone are going to cost me at least thirty. Like I haven’t spent enough already,” He sighed and pointed at the coat rack by the back door. “Go get your coat and boots on.”</p><p> </p><p>She squealed excitedly before sliding down from the chair and running off to get dressed. He eyed the containers again and shook his head. This was going to be a pain in the butt.</p><p> </p><p>@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@</p><p> </p><p>The trip to the store was worse than he could have imagined. Not only was the place jam packed but his choices in things were limited because most of the shelves were empty. By some miracle he found the containers Jack had mentioned, and he bought everything still on the shelves, even if they weren’t Christmas related. They were relatively cheap and there were multiple ones in each package. That was good enough.</p><p> </p><p>Delilah insisted on getting bows to put on top of each one so they looked like presents. He obliged and they walked out with bags containing two hundred different colored ones. They got home and began the process of filling each new container. It was a struggle keeping Delilah from stealing cookies so eventually he sent her off to bug Jack. His daughter Claire was still at her friend’s house and for the moment the kitchen was his to work in alone and at his own pace.</p><p> </p><p>The following day was Saturday and at noon he set out with all three kids. They moved together, going door to door, giving cookies and wishing people Happy Holidays. Most people accepted the cookies with a smile, though there were a few who looked confused. Some refused altogether, though only one was rude about it. Several neighbors got chatty and it was next to impossible to escape them. By two the older kids were done. That surprised him since Delilah was only seven. He’d have thought she’d be the first to give up but no, that fell to Claire who just wanted to go hang out with her friends. Jack saw her exit as an excuse to leave as well, so it came down to just him and his bubbly little girl to finish handing out the containers.</p><p> </p><p>They got to the house at the end of the block and for a second he wasn’t going to bother ringing the bell. It had stood empty most of the year but he spotted a light on through the garage window, so maybe someone lived there now. This house was the last and he’d brought exactly enough containers for each house and since there some people had declined his gift, he still had six in the little red wagon Delilah had been pulling along. He grabbed one and leaving the wagon on the sidewalk, they went to the door.</p><p> </p><p>“I wanna ring it!” Delilah pushed his hand away and pressed the button herself. They could hear the deep bell sound reverberate through the house. A moment later the door was flying open and a little girl with long blonde hair was standing face to face with Delilah.</p><p> </p><p>“Dee !” She squealed. Delilah squealed excitedly in return as she pulled her into a hug.</p><p> </p><p>“Emma! You live on my block?” </p><p> </p><p>“Uh huh, my daddy said my auntie told him this was a nice place to live. I didn’t know you lived by me! Where is your house?” Emma stepped out onto the porch to see where Delilah was pointing. He noticed she was barefoot and was about to say something when a man in a black tee shirt and jeans came rushing towards them. All he could see was his daughter and the strange man on the porch. Delilah was in front of Emma and out of his line of sight.</p><p> </p><p>“Emma!” He reached for her arm and that was when he noticed the little girl with the headful of dark brown curls and huge blue eyes. She looked like a porcelain doll with her delicate features and cheeks so rosy from the cold.</p><p> </p><p>“Daddy, this is Dee! She’s my friend!” Emma exclaimed. The man smiled at the girls before looking up at Cas.</p><p> </p><p>“This is your daughter?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, I’m Cas, I live across the street.” He offered his hand and a friendly smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Dean. Do you guys want to come inside for a minute?” He asked as they shook hands.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, well, our wagon is out on the sidewalk,” Cas pointed back over his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll get it!” Delilah skipped down the stairs and ran over to grab the wagon. She pulled it up to the bottom of the stairs and ran back up them. Before Cas could stop her she dashed into the house after Emma.</p><p> </p><p>“I guess yeah, we’ll come in for a minute.” He laughed. Dean chuckled and stepped aside to let him in.</p><p> </p><p>“So you live across the street?” </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, the blue house with the white porch railings. It’s done up in lights and there’s a Santa and sled in the front yard.” Cas replied.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t put up much more than some hanging trees with lights in the windows this year. We only just moved in a couple months back and I’m still unpacking. I’m not entirely sure where the Christmas decorations even are. I bought a new tree and ornaments though.” He gestured towards the brightly lit tree in the corner.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s beautiful,” Cas said. He remembered the container in his hands and held it out to him. “This was why we stopped by. The PTA fundraiser was cancelled and I was stuck with the forty dozen cookies they asked me to make. My son gave me the idea to give them out to the neighbors. As it is I still have dozens of them at home. I’m going to be handing them off to family so my kids don’t eat them all. Delilah could eat her weight in cookies if I let her.” </p><p> </p><p>“Emma too,” Dean laughed as he took the cookies. “Hang your coat up and join me in the kitchen. You’ll see what I got stuck with from the fundraiser.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh no, you too?” Cas chuckled as he took his coat off. He stopped Delilah for a second to take off her coat too. He hung them on the empty hooks by the door noting that there were only two others there, one that was clearly Emma’s and another that was obviously Dean’s. </p><p> </p><p>“I just transferred Emma in October and part of all the paperwork they gave me was info about the PTA. I finally got around to contacting the president last month. I attended a couple of meetings, signed up, paid my dues, and they told me about the fundraiser. I wanted to contribute. I imagine your shock and anger were as bad as mine when they cancelled it.” Dean said as they stepped into the kitchen. Cas gasped as he looked around. There were pies <em> everywhere </em>. They covered every counter and the entire table.</p><p> </p><p>“Wow, that’s a lot of pie,” He laughed. “I filled the biggest Tupperware containers I own with cookies until Jack suggested I give them away.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, by the way, we love cookies. It’s a change from pie, that’s for sure. We’ll burn out on it real quick, I made <em> thirty </em>.” Dean sighed as he tucked the container of cookies in the microwave. “Maybe I should give them away. I’m going to send a couple home with my brother and I’m bringing some for my mom so she doesn’t have to make them this year. I’ll put some in the deep freezer but it won’t hold forever, you know? They’ll eventually get freezer burn and I’ll have to throw them out. Do you like pie? You can have as many as you want. How many kids do you have? Do they have a preference?”</p><p> </p><p>“I have three kids and they all love pie. Pumpkin, apple and cherry are favorites in our home,” Cas replied. Cherry was <em> his </em> favorite.</p><p> </p><p>“Does your wife have one she likes? Or, uh, your husband? I don’t want to assume,” Dean was already moving to grab one of each of the flavors he’d just mentioned.</p><p> </p><p>“No, it’s just myself and the kids but my ex might like one. He likes pecan, I believe.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean grabbed one of those too and began putting the plastic lids on them. He’d bought the disposable tins that came with their own lids so readying them was quick and easy. He set them on the island, the only surface not covered in delicious, round, pastries.</p><p> </p><p>“ If you want more please don’t hesitate to ask. Maybe you want one for your family for Christmas?” </p><p> </p><p>He thought about that and realized that yes, they would. “Well, my brother has one heck of a sweet tooth. I’m giving him a couple dozen cookies but I believe he’d appreciate a pie too. What other flavors do you have?”</p><p> </p><p>“I made pumpkin, sweet potato, pecan, cherry, mixed berry, blueberry, apple, dutch apple, and strawberry rhubarb.” Dean replied.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, wow,” Cas chuckled. “You’ve been as busy as I’ve been. Did Emma and her mom help? Or dad, I don’t want to make assumptions either.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s just Em and me, I’m divorced. Em helped but there’s only so much a seven year old can do before she started to whine. I’ve worked on these for the last three days. I’m so glad I have a double oven!”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, if you want to give me a few pies for my family I’ll provide you with more cookies to share with yours. Do you have relatives that might like some? I even have some sugar free ones,” Cas offered. “I made chocolate chip, M&amp;M, peanut butter, oatmeal chocolate chip, regular oatmeal, oatmeal raisin, sugar, and snickerdoodles. I gave you a mix of those, but less of the oatmeal since there are a lot of people that don’t like them. I also double bagged the peanut butter so they aren’t touching the other cookies. There’s parchment paper between each layer too, in case someone has an allergy to something.”</p><p> </p><p>“Man, I <em> love </em> oatmeal cookies,” Dean leaned back against the counter by the stove, a big smile on his face. Cas would be hard pressed to deny that the man was gorgeous.”You can definitely bring some of those by. I just have to remind myself not to eat too many at once. That’s a mistake I’ve made a few times and it was an immediate regret, if you know what I mean.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas laughed and nodded. He knew <em> exactly </em> what he meant. “Oh yes, I’ve done that too. Avoid them with coffee as well.”</p><p> </p><p>“If you don’t mind giving me some of the oatmeal I’d eat them. M&amp;M and chocolate chip would be a hit with my brother’s kids. My folks like pretty much all of what you made, except my dad won’t eat the cookies with raisins, he hates them. My mom loves sugar cookies, they’re her favorite. My brother tries to pretend he’s the healthiest person in the world but he will gobble up pie and cookies if they’re around. My sister in law likes the snickerdoodles. Man, I haven’t had those in years,” Dean looked thoughtful, as though reflecting on past memories where he’d gotten to eat them. “They’re one of my favorites.”</p><p> </p><p>“I made them all from scratch,” Cas said. “Everything is made with organic ingredients, except the ones with the M&amp;M’s, and then it’s just the candies that aren’t. Two of my kids have preservative allergies and Claire, my oldest can’t handle refined sugar. I use raw and she has no problem with that.”</p><p> </p><p>“There’s a lot more allergies nowadays, right?” Dean frowned. “I was a really healthy kid but the last few years I’ve broken out in hives at least a half dozen times after eating different things. Em has allergies too.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, there are way more than when we were kids,” Cas agreed. </p><p> </p><p>“So, you live alone with your kids?” Dean asked. “Split custody or no?”</p><p> </p><p>“Split with their mother. It’s a little complicated but I was married right out of college to my first real girlfriend. We waited a few years before we decided it was the right time to have a baby. Claire was our first. We waited four years and then Jack was born. By the end of her pregnancy our marriage was failing. I realized I was gay, she got a fantastic job offer that left her working insanely long hours, so we divorced before his first birthday. I have primary custody and she takes them every other weekend and every other holiday. This year they’re with me for Christmas but she’ll have them for New Year’s. I got the itch for another baby when Jack was little so I used a surrogate and got my princess, Delilah.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s pretty cool. I would like to have more but Emma’s mom cut her losses right after she was born and disappeared into the wind around the time she was three months. I haven’t heard from her since. I filed for divorce after she left. Before Emma turned one I went to court and got full custody. It’s just been us since then.” Dean shrugged. The girls came running in and Cas was dismayed to see that his daughter’s socks and shoes had disappeared.</p><p> </p><p>“Dee, where are your socks and shoes?” He stopped her before she could follow Emma to the fridge.</p><p> </p><p>“In the living room,” She replied. “Can I have some chocolate milk? Emma’s gonna have some.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s almond milk,” Dean warned. “But she can have some if it’s ok with you.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas contemplated it but decided that yes, she could have some. “Ok, but only half a glass, I don’t want you getting a tummy ache.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ok!” Delilah bounced over to the fridge where Dean poured both girls a half glass. </p><p> </p><p>“You can have that in the den, but sit on the floor and use the coffee table.”</p><p> </p><p>“No running.” Cas added. Both girls took their glasses and left. As Dean was closing the fridge Cas noticed that it was covered in pictures. One that stood out to him was of Dean and Emma at the Pride Fest. He knew it was Pride because of Emma’s rainbow dress and the bi flag on Dean’s shirt, but behind them was the rainbow flowered arch that clearly said “Pride”. Even if he hadn’t seen it he recognized everything in the background because he’d been there too. “You were at Pride? I was there too.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yep, we go every year. I’ve lived in town for about ten years now but I was on the other side. I had a townhouse but I wanted a place where I wasn’t listening to my neighbors having sex or hearing their yappy chihuahua that never shut up. I needed some quiet, and a safe yard for Emma to run around and play in. My friend told me about this house so I came to see it. I made an offer the day I toured it. This place is great, I love it. I mean, look at this kitchen, it was totally remodeled, I didn’t have to do anything to it.” Dean made a sweeping gesture towards the cabinets and island. It really was amazing.</p><p> </p><p>“I remodeled my kitchen, it’s not too different from this. I love to cook and having to do so for three kids, I wanted the space to do it, and the appliances and cabinet space to do it quickly.” Cas said.</p><p> </p><p>“You want a beer? Or a glass of tea?” Dean asked. “Or water? I have chocolate milk.” He grinned. Cas laughed in amusement.</p><p> </p><p>“What kind of beer do you have?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean opened the fridge and pointed to the bottom shelf where there were bottles of Stella Artois. “Do you like Stella?”</p><p> </p><p>“Honestly, I’ve never had it, I was just hoping you didn’t have Coors or Michelob,” Cas joked. Dean chuckled as he took two bottles out. There was a bottle opener on the side of the fridge that he used and he handed the first bottle to Cas.</p><p> </p><p>“I hate the really cheap stuff. That’s what my dad drank for years. Busch was his favorite, followed by Miller. I drank Miller until I started taste testing to see what else there was. There are so many better ones out there. Sam Adams is good and I turned my dad onto that. He doesn’t like this though.” Dean took a sip of his beer.</p><p> </p><p>“My dad drank Budweiser,” Cas grimaced. “I bring different things to family gatherings, especially in the summer because I refuse to drink that stuff, it’s so gross.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Dean wrinkled his nose. Cas noticed the freckles that were scattered across his nose and cheeks. His lashes were so long they brushed his cheeks each time he blinked. “You ok there?”</p><p> </p><p>He refocused on the conversation, cocking his head in confusion. “I’m fine, why do you ask?”</p><p> </p><p>“You were staring. I thought maybe you were thinking and your mind wandered. God knows it happens to me often enough,” Dean took another sip and Cas’ eyes were drawn to his lips. He caught himself that time though and looked away. Finally he took his own sip. It definitely wasn’t his favorite, but it wasn’t too bad.</p><p> </p><p>“I apologize for staring. I used to get yelled at for that a lot growing up. I had to train myself to look away every few seconds. After a boy I had a crush on in high school called me creepy I was embarrassed, didn’t want to do it again and creep someone else out.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m caught staring at people’s lips when they talk, but mostly when it’s noisy. I had a double ear infection as a kid but my eardrum ruptured in my right one. I lost some hearing and when it’s noisy I have trouble making out words. I’m no lip reader but sometimes it helps. Women think I’m flirting and straight men get offended, until I explain. I often find myself doing it even when it’s quiet. It's an old habit.” Dean shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“I understand that all too well,” Cas took another sip. It tasted better that time, though he still thought it a bit too bitter for his palate. He wouldn’t be buying this one for himself.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you date?” Dean asked. “Is it tricky with three kids?”</p><p> </p><p>“I do date, though it’s been a while. I met a man when Dee was about three and we were together for two years. We’re still friends, but that’s all it will ever be. Besides, he’s married now. I’m up for dating but men without children of their own or any kind of paternal instincts, I’ve found that they run the other direction when I say I have three kids, especially when I say I have a teenager and a preteen. Claire is sixteen and Jack is twelve,” He explained. “What about you?” He was tempted to ask Dean out. The man was gorgeous, nice, and clearly liked kids. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s been even longer for me. I’ve gone on a few blind dates my sister in law or my best friend set up but I’m not sure what they think I’d be attracted to, because they keep setting me up with people I would never seek out on my own.” He pushed off the counter by the stove and moved over to the island where Cas was standing and leaned back against that one. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing that I can think of, besides maybe eating cookies,” Cas replied with a laugh. “But probably not even that. Why do you ask?” He was really hoping Dean was about to ask him out.</p><p> </p><p>“Because I was hoping you’d join me for dinner. Maybe at a restaurant and not here where there will be tinies underfoot.” Dean replied. Cas felt years younger when his stomach did an excited flip. He smiled and nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“I’d love to. I can get my daughter to watch the girls.”</p><p> </p><p>“Even better. I’ll pay her.” Dean said.</p><p> </p><p>Before they could discuss where they wanted to go Delilah was back with her empty glass. She headed straight to the sink to wash it. Dean was impressed. His own daughter would have just dumped hers and run off. Emma came in a few seconds later and seeing what Delilah was doing stopped long enough to wash her own.</p><p>“Daddy, can Emma spend the night?”</p><p> </p><p>That actually worked out perfectly, Cas thought. “Tomorrow night. You’ll clean your room tomorrow and then you can set up your princess tent. You girls can sleep in there.”</p><p> </p><p>“But I want her to spend the night tonight,” Delilah whined.</p><p> </p><p>“What did I tell you about whining?” He warned. “I’ll change my mind completely.” Instantly she stood up straight, her blue eyes wide and sober.</p><p> </p><p>“Ok, tomorrow night. I just hafta put my dolls and books away.”</p><p> </p><p>“You have other chores to finish too. If you want to have friends over you know that all your chores need to be finished.”</p><p> </p><p>She nodded with a quick snap of her head that had her curls bouncing. “Got it!” She rushed out of the room with Emma on her heels.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s a spitfire, isn’t she,” Dean laughed. “Reminds me of Emma. She told me about her friend Dee, but I’d never seen your daughter in person until today. She’s precious.”</p><p> </p><p>“You mean precocious,” Cas grinned. “She mentioned her best friend Emma and told me she was new. Claire brings her home after school so I never got to meet your daughter. She has been after me for a while now to let her have a sleepover. I’ll just make sure the other two don’t ask for one for tomorrow. I’ll let Claire know she’s babysitting. She’ll be excited to know she’s getting extra money. I’m looking forward to tomorrow night. Do you know where you want to go?”</p><p> </p><p>They spent a few minutes discussing their tastes in food and then Cas texted Claire to tell her about the following night. She was excited to find out it was because he was going on a date. He felt much the same. By the time he was able to corral his daughter and get her dressed and out the door he was in the best mood he’d felt since before finding out about the cancelled fundraiser. Now he had something besides dozens of cookies and the ten pies Dean had sent him home with to focus on. Tomorrow would be fun.</p>
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